Hearing Schubert
by messyhead
Summary: It's the kind of loss everyone fears most. How will Jaime get through it? Many thanks to NeesiePie.
1. Chapter 1

The phone rang and Oscar jumped. He was up to his neck in quarterly reports, and the last one had bored him into a light doze. He could tell by the ring that it was Rudy calling from the lab.

"Yes, Rudy?"

His voice was agitated. "Oscar, there's a problem with Steve."

"What?!"

"You need to get a medevac in there right now. And get Russ to him - as soon as possible."

Oscar quickly followed Rudy's request with two phone calls, and raced down to the lab.

He burst through the door and found Rudy staring at two monitors in the back corner. Rudy turned. "Done?" he asked sharply.

Oscar nodded. "What's going on?" His stomach was clenched and he was sweating.

"Steve suddenly complained of back pain, and then his blood pressure dropped radically."

"What..?"

"He's not answering anymore." He looked at Oscar hard, his face pale. "I'm afraid he's having a heart attack."

"_No_..."Oscar protested, scanning Rudy's face anxiously."What else can we do?"

"Did you tell Russ to call?'

Oscar nodded.

"Then we wait."

Oscar sank into a chair and looked to his old friend, seeking guidance. "Should I...call Jaime?"

Rudy shook his head. "Wait a little. All we can do right now is make her frantic. And then there will be three of us feeling helpless."

----

There had been a serious discussion between the three old friends before this mission. Steve had come to Oscar a month earlier and requested an assignment - something light and not too dangerous, so he could keep his skills up. He was feeling rusty. Oscar had found just the thing - a short mission to investigate some mysterious signals to space originating in the Sierra Nevada mountains. It was not much more than a hike up the mountain to make a discreet investigation - the kind of thing Steve could handle with his eyes closed. Rudy did a quick physical, during which Steve confessed to a little back pain, but otherwise he was well - just a little out of shape. Oscar had been a little reticent about sending him, but with his usual aplomb Steve convinced them he would be fine. Rudy had insisted on a monitor for both Steve's heart and respiration, and one for the bionics. Oscar added Russ as back up. Steve had rolled his eyes.

"Now are you old ladies gonna let me go?" he asked.

They stood on the tarmac, and Oscar extended his hand. "Just remember pal, if you see the Donner party up there and they offer you lunch, don't accept."

Rudy rolled his eyes. Steve grinned. "You're a sick man, Oscar." He shook hands with his two friends. "You fellas keep an eye on my girls for me, okay?"

----

It had been half an hour, but it felt like a lifetime. Rudy watched the heart monitor while Oscar paced. He called the military three times to make sure the helicopter had been sent out as requested, and that it had reached Steve. He resisted calling Russ, not wanting to interrupt him in whatever he was doing to help.

Suddenly Rudy turned to look at him - and the expression on his face immediately confirmed Oscar's worst fear. It felt like a hard blow to the stomach. He even felt himself double over slightly.

"Could the medics...have...removed the heart monitor...?" he asked, clinging to hope. Rudy just shook his head and stared into the middle distance, unable to respond.

The phone rang, and Oscar snatched it from the cradle. "Russ?"

He could tell someone was there on the other end, but it took a long time for Russ to reply. "Oscar..." There was another silence. "He's gone."

"He can't be gone." Oscar commanded frantically. "Keep him going till you get to a hospital and get him on life support."

"That's where I am. We don't know what happened... his heart...something catastrophic. He's...dead."Russ's voice cracked. "I'm so sorry Oscar."

"I know you did your best." Oscar could barely push the words out. "Bring him home."

He put the phone down and crumpled into the nearest chair and put his head in his hands. He and Rudy sat in silent disbelief. He finally looked at Rudy through glazed eyes. "I have to tell Jaime." 

"I'll come." Rudy asserted. "You'd better order a car."

"Right. Uh..." Oscar said distractedly. He picked up the phone. "Callahan, get me a driver." 

The car took them through Washington too quickly. There was a traffic jam, and at one point they sat through three lights, but it was still too quick. As he and Rudy sat in leaden silence, Oscar tried to formulate over and over again the words he would use to tell her. Would one choice of words make it less devastating than another? Did it matter what form you used to ruin a person's life?

Jaime wasn't home when they arrived. He sat on her front step while Rudy leaned on a pillar and stared at his shoes. Oscar didn't know how long they had been there when she finally rounded the corner with Emmy in her arms. Her blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail and she looked content, perhaps a little tired. He was seeing the last moments of happy ignorance on her face. She stopped in her tracks when she saw them - a moment of hesitation - and then she knew. She dropped to her knees on the sidewalk and pulled the baby tight to her. Both men rushed forward. Oscar lifted her to her feet while Rudy gently took Emmy from her.

"No, Oscar, no. No." she shuddered. He took the house keys from her and opened the door, letting them in. Swiftly he guided her to the couch and sat her down. Squatting in front of her, he gripped her arms, hoping in some small way to give her strength. Rudy sat beside her with the baby, who was beginning to fuss.

"What...what..." She was panicked, grasping at Oscar's lapel, wanting answers and not wanting them all at once. "Where is he? Is he alive at least?" Her voice shook violently.

Oscar bowed his head. "Steve's ...gone, Jaime. His heart, we think...we don't know for sure. They did everything they could..."

"Noooo." her voice lifted high, into something like a howl. "No, no, no." She covered her face with her hands, as though trying to hide from them. Watching her receive this worst possible news caused a wrenching feeling in Oscar's chest that had to be his heart pulling itself apart. It was so much worse than his own misery.

She slowly calmed and her breathing became more regular. She took her hands from her face and stared at Oscar. Her expression was icy.

"You did this." she said quietly. She roughly pushed his hands away. "I think you'd better get out of my house."

"Jaime..." Oscar and Rudy exchanged startled glances.

"Get out. And don't ever come near me again, do you hear me?" Her voice was ferociously cold. "Because if you do, I'll take you apart. And then Rudy can put you back together again, and then you can run yourself all over on OSI missions until _you_ drop dead. And that ought to suit everybody."

He could say nothing. She was unapproachable in her rage. He stood up, backed away from her and looked to Rudy who nodded gently, affirming his instincts. Rudy would stay, but there was nothing Oscar could do but leave._  
_

He sat down in the back of the car and tried to suppress the violent shaking that had overtaken him.

"Back to the office, Mr Goldman?" the driver asked.

"Just give me a minute." Oscar replied. He looked at her house. It looked so normal on the outside. But everything was ruined. He wanted to go uproot the plants, hack down the trees and smash the windows - so the world would know.

"I think I'll walk." he said, getting out. He hoped the shaking would diminish if he moved.

"Are you sure, sir?"

"Yes. Call Callahan and tell her I'll be back in a couple of hours. And go pick her up and bring her over here immediately."

Oscar walked blindly through the streets of Washington. He shouldn't be on his own, he knew, but he didn't much care. Once a fellow pedestrian pulled at his jacket to stop him from crossing against the light. All the loss he'd ever experienced was brought to the surface, to be felt anew. The world had changed in an instant, and this new world didn't look like it would be much worth living in. He was flooded by memories of Steve. He had never had a truer friend - a fact Steve kept disguised by streams of sly jokes and slaps on the shoulder. He couldn't _really_ believe he was gone. He tried to force the thought on himself and it immediately made him sick to his stomach. He dropped onto a bench. Jaime's last expression haunted him - he had never seen hate written on her face until now. In the last year she had been increasingly impatient with him, and she was particularly unhappy with the idea of Steve taking assignments. Now her worst fears had come true. _No wonder..._

He had seen grief expressed as fury before, and he had seen it directed at him. A year after his brother Sam disappeared during the attack on Pearl Harbor, his mother suddenly died. It was supposed to have been a stroke, but the family always knew that the real cause of death was a broken heart. The day of her funeral was the last day Oscar ever remembered feeling real warmth from his father. After that, he could do nothing right. It wasn't that his father was physically abusive - but he developed a hair trigger temper that was frequently set off by his awkward and gangly twelve year old son. Oscar's sister Judy tried valiantly to defend him, but that only made the old man angrier. He gradually learned, over the remaining five years he lived in his father's house, to become inconspicuous, and to quietly engineer some sort of a life for himself. It was a skill that stood he found useful in his career, but it came with a price - there was a part of him that was forever trapped in that house.

He would call Judy tonight. She would understand. He would have to resist unburdening himself to her completely - because he couldn't do that with anyone. He felt a pang of self pity, followed by an almost crippling stab of guilt. Steve was gone. Jaime was a widow. Emmy had no father.

---

Tributes to Steve poured in. He was given a full military funeral. Many friends and colleagues came to Jaime or wrote to her to tell her what he had meant to them. In one sense Jaime was proud, and in the other, stronger sense, she felt cheated - cheated out of a lifetime with the only man she loved.

There was also a family funeral, organized by Helen and Jim, where everyone wept throughout. Callahan held a wake, everyone telling stories of Steve, many funny and some very touching, which made Jaime miss him all the more acutely. Everyone gathered around her, and though she felt as though her heart and soul had been scraped out, leaving her completely hollow, she knew she was well cared for. She didn't prevent Oscar from coming to any of these occasions, and he stood a respectful fifteen feet from Jaime at all times and remained completely quiet. Jaime thought he looked like Poe's raven, dressed in black in the back of the room. She half expected him to croak out _Nevermore_.


	2. Chapter 2

For the first couple of months she was kept amazingly busy by all the excruciating details that need to be attended to following a death. Paperwork, thank-you notes, trips to the lawyer, the accountant and the bank. Though she loathed it, she suspected that without these tasks she would let herself become a complete mess.

The autopsy was performed. Steve had suffered a massive aortic aneurysm. It had gone undetected, as they often do, but it did explain the back aches he had been suffering. There was also an internal OSI report which absolved Oscar, Rudy and Russ of any blame in Steve's death. _Of course it did._

She just wanted Steve back. She was obsessed by the notion that he would walk through the door one day, his usual breezy self, and explain it was just another crazy OSI trick. When that didn't happen, she wished instead to simply feel his presence - to know that he was with her somehow, that he could tell her get through this - but he wasn't there. She couldn't hear his voice or remember what he looked like. There was nothing but a dark and terrifying void where there had once been love and happiness.

As the visits from well wishers tapered off and the paperwork was finished, she finally settled into the long, dull, miserable business of grief.

Callahan came by every couple of days, bringing gossipy magazines, flowers and sometimes even a record or two - usually cheery, bouncy stuff that Jaime didn't much care for. Often she'd watch Emmy while Jaime ran errands. Rudy showed up every other day, bringing food from the deli close to his house. Sometimes she was deeply grateful to see them, other times she didn't even feel like answering the door, but she always did. They meant well and she didn't want to upset them.

Today Jaime was glad to see Rudy. They talked about his upcoming vacation, about her need to clean the gutters around her house and a few other small things, but he wore a distracted look, such that she finally asked him what was on his mind.

He sighed and looked at her with trepidation. "Have you thought about talking to Oscar?" he asked quietly.

She stiffened. "No, I have not."

"Jaime, please." He looked at Emmy lying on the floor, playing with her toes. He kept his tone light. "He doesn't deserve this."

"Oh really." she said sharply. "You know Rudy, a few things have become clear to me about Oscar. The OSI is the only thing he really cares about, and he'll feed us all into it until somebody dies. And then sure, he's sorry, but it's too late, isn't it? One by one, everyone gets sucked into the machine. He was supposed to be Steve's _best friend_. Who needs enemies?"

"Jaime, _I'm_ the one who missed the aneurysm. I gave my go-ahead too."

"Why did he have the aneurysm, Rudy?" she replied angrily. "Too much stress maybe? And who constantly put him under ridiculous, inhuman stress? Not you! You look after people and make them better, and then Oscar uses them up. It's an efficient little machine he's got going there."

Rudy shook his head sadly. "You can't blame him for what happened to Steve. It was probably genetic."

"Even _if_ that's true - who would send a man with a brand new baby out on _any_ assignment!?" Jaime spat out the words. "Oscar has done nothing but take Steve away from me. When I finally moved to Washington I felt like I'd broken into the boy's clubhouse and I just wasn't welcome. Poker night, for instance. Or those evenings Steve spent locked up in Oscar's office talking espionage and drinking scotch."

Rudy's eyes darkened. "So Oscar was a bad influence on poor Steve - is that what you're saying? Steve always did exactly as he wanted!"

"If you want living proof that bureaucrats have no soul, he's your man. There's no substance. It's no accident that he's alone in life." Jaime had come to understand the term "seeing red" because it now happened to her all the time. At times it was as though she were enveloped by a red blanket of pure rage.

Rudy's next words were quiet, but his anger was palpable. "Jaime Sommers, there is no one on earth who cares for you more than Oscar does. Not me, not Helen and Jim - nobody. And you have no idea what this is doing to him. I've prescribed sleeping pills for him that would put a horse out for 8 hours - and he still can't sleep. He's lost Steve and now he's lost you too. It's nobody's fault. It's sad and terrible and devastating and that's all there is to it." He paused and looked hard at her. "Honestly, I think you're angry with him because you don't want to be angry with Steve."

"I can't. I just can't." Was she referring to forgiving Oscar or being angry with Steve? She didn't even know herself. Rudy's words deflated her completely, and she threw her arms around his neck, in dire need of comfort. Of course he provided it - with soothing words and a long, warm hug - as he did every time he came to the house.


	3. Chapter 3

Four days later she was in her favorite grocery store with Emmy, and there he was - in the produce section - examining avocados. She didn't recognize him at first. He was wearing khaki pants, his shirt was untucked, and he was thin. She felt an unexpected wave of affection for him. Suddenly he didn't look like any kind of a bigshot - one who could lay waste to your entire life with one bad decision - he was just an ordinary guy, trying to pick a ripe avocado.

With Rudy's words ringing in her head, she approached. "I've never imagined you grocery shopping." she said from behind him.

Oscar's head snapped around at the sound of her voice. He looked startled - almost frightened, really - but after a moment replied, "Well... I haven't had anyone volunteer to do it for me..."

"Don't worry, I'm not going to bite." He gave her a pained smile. He was having difficulty maintaining eye contact. "Maybe we could talk?" she asked quietly. "Do you have time?"

He nodded again. "Sure." He waved an avocado in the direction of the front of the store. "That cafe across the street? After you've finished shopping?" His eyes rested on Emmy for a moment, and the tiniest hint of a smile showed in his eyes.

The cafe was busy when she arrived, but he was already seated at a table in the back corner. As she sat down, he jumped up and went to the counter to order coffee for both of them. He arrived back at the table first with the coffee, and then again with a large piece of chocolate cake, which he placed in front of her.

"What's this?" she asked.

"Eat." he replied as he sat. "You're too thin."

"You should talk." Oscar looked much as she felt. Thin, drawn, circles under his eyes. They were a dismal dark pair jammed into the back of a busy café.

He held out his arms and motioned with his fingers. "Here. I"ll hold her."

"You know how to hold a baby?" Jaime asked with reticence.

"I do my own grocery shopping, I hold babies. I am a human being, you know." He motioned again, and she handed Emmy across the table to him. He tucked her into the crook of his arm and made a friendly face at her. "I won't pretend I'm not terrified of babies, but I do okay in short doses." Emmy looked fine, for the moment, anyway.

Jaime couldn't help but smile. "I guess you do have nieces and nephews, don't you?"

"Yes I do! I do!" he said making his voice emphatic and loopy for the baby. She wiggled her arms and smiled in approval.

He bounced Emmy on his knee as they sat in silence. Jaime took a bite of cake. When she looked up, Oscar's brown eyes were trained on her. "It's probably a stupid question... but how are you?"

She shook her head and looked down. "I get up in the morning. That's my biggest achievement. I keep getting up every day. I try to make life nice for Emmy. If it weren't for her, I don't think I could do it."

He nodded, and looked out the window.

"I feel like there's a huge weight on me. All the time. Like I'm walking on the bottom of the ocean."

"Yeah." he said. There was another silence.

"Rudy read me the riot act the other day." she said finally.

"How do you mean?"

"About you."

"Oh?"

"He said I'm angry at you so I don't have to be angry at Steve."

He shook his head. "You have every right. I shouldn't have..." he stopped and stared at the table for a long moment. "I shouldn't have let him go."

Jaime could see the guilt crushing him as he sat there. Nonetheless she felt the familiar rage rise in her chest. "_Let_ him go? You _asked_ him to go."

He looked up at her, his eyes pleading. "It was supposed to be a cakewalk. After all the close calls he and I had together - do you think for a minute I thought we could lose him jogging up a hill?"

"Men with two month old babies should not be sent out on assignment." She angrily mashed a morsel of cake into the plate.

He looked to Emmy. "I know." he whispered. "I'm sorry." He stroked the baby's hair. "I think he and I both saw it as exercise - just keeping in shape." He reluctantly lifted his eyes to hers. "I never apologized to you. I know it's pitifully inadequate but I want you to know I'd give _anything_ to fix it. I'd do anything to make it better - for you and Emmy. I'm sorry, Jaime."

Her eyes brimmed with hot tears. "Too little too late." she sobbed, shaking her head.

He handed her a napkin, and she wiped her eyes. "Listen, I'll go. I'm just making it worse." he said quietly, lifting Emmy over the table.

"Not yet." she choked. Oscar, already on his feet, slowly sat down again and repositioned Emmy. "There's something else I need to hear from you." She collected herself together, took a deep breath, and looked hard at him. "What the hell happened to you?" she asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I always thought you were a friend of mine. When I lived in Ojai I even thought we were close. Then when I moved here - boom - it was over. The only time I'd ever see you was when you picked Steve up for poker night, or at those horrible bi-annual OSI dinners. I _missed_ you. I could have used my old friend Oscar in this new city, this new life - and you just weren't there for me."

He stirred his coffee absently. "I wanted to see you." he said finally. "I just didn't think..." he looked into her eyes, "it was good idea."

"Why not?" she asked angrily.

He started to speak, and then stopped. She could see him trying to work out what he would say. "Everything was right in Steve's world when I was the boss and you two were a team. "

"Yes. So...?" she said with impatience.

"So..." Oscar continued "my friendship with you changed that."

"What - you think Steve was _jealous_?" she asked incredulously.

Oscar leaned forward. "Do you remember the time you and I teased him about his moustache? Remember?" Jaime pondered the question and nodded. "Remember how mad he was? He pretended he wasn't, but he went out to the garage and sulked, right?"

"Yeah... but..."

"I know it doesn't seem like much, but things like that... Look, he'd lost you _twice_. You can't blame him if he was a little...anxious. Besides, he knew that I... well... that I was perhaps..._too_ fond of you."

Jaime's eyebrows twitched at this confession. So she _hadn't_ imagined it...

"But why didn't you ever say anything to me?"

"What would I say?"

Oscar studied the table. If she had thought him manipulative (that was one flaw she wouldn't have accused him of) she would have been suspicious of the entire conversation. Instead she found herself softening toward him, and more profoundly she felt the old familiar desire to confide in him.

"You know," she said, giving in to her inclination, "I started to wonder if Rudy was right. Maybe I have been mad at Steve." She traced her fork through the icing on the cake. Could she really say this? "I started to wonder if..." her voice cracked "if he really loved us. just felt like he was trying to get away after the baby was born - hanging around with you till all hours, playing poker, asking for assignments - it was like he wanted to get away."

Oscar reached over and took her hand. "Don't ever doubt him." he said, gazing intently into her eyes. "He loved you both more than anything. Believe me."

"I just miss him so much."

"I know." he said. They sat quietly for a moment. Oscar was clearly formulating a thought. "Jaime, you have to understand, women just seem to know - they know they're the central figure of the family."

"Are you kidding?" Jaime interjected. "I feel like a total amateur. I'm scared half to death most of the time."

"I'm sure you are. But from over here, from a male perspective, you look strong and sure. I think it takes some men a while to find their place. He made some big changes - semi retirement, marriage, a baby - it was a lot to adjust to." He paused and looked away, remembering something. He smiled. "Those poker games - he used to talk nonstop about you two. He wanted to do it right. Rudy used to tell him to shut up and deal."He paused and added hesitantly, "He was going to be a great father."

She nodded, her eyes welling up again. She squeezed his hand.

"Don't you ever cry?" she asked, exasperated with her own constant tearfulness.

He shook his head. "I don't seem to be able to. I wish I could."

"I wish I wouldn't."She slipped her hand from his and dabbed at her eyes.

"It's okay." he said gently. "You cry all you want." He looked down at Emmy, who was staring at him with fascination. "She sure looks like him. Those bright blue eyes."He hitched her a little higher in his arms, so she was eye level with his chin. Her look grew more intent.

"She sure does." Jaime smiled. She had a sense of what was about to happen, but she decided to let it play out. Was this passive-aggression, she wondered?

"Jaime, please let me help you. Somehow. I think we could help each other..."

Just then, as Jaime had expected, Emmy reached up with her tiny fingers and grabbed Oscar's nose - right between the nostrils - and began to pull. He winced in pain and screwed his eyes shut. He was clearly hoping she would just let go, which Jaime knew was highly unlikely."Oh dear," Jaime laughed, remembering she hadn't clipped the baby's fingernails in a while, and it probably hurt. She stood up and grabbed Emmy's fingers and one by one disengaged them from Oscar's nose, and then picked the baby up. Perhaps he had had enough.

Oscar sighed in relief and then looked at Jaime darkly. "You probably told her to do that." He picked up a napkin and wiped the tears of pain from his eyes.

"So you do cry!" Jaime laughed, feeling only slightly guilty - and oddly satisfied.

"Under certain circumstances."

She smiled as she watched him recover his dignity. He did look exhausted."So tell me. Does everything you eat taste like cardboard?" she asked, finally.

"Pretty much."

"I've found a Szechuan place. Spicy. Wakes up your taste buds. I think it may be keeping me going. Would you have dinner there with us sometime this week?"

"I'd love to." Maybe she'd missed those warm brown eyes. Maybe there was a soul in there after all. Maybe she'd just forgotten.

"How about a contest?" she offered. "You gain ten pounds. I gain five. First one to the finish buys the other dinner every week for a month.

"What?! That's hardly fair."

"You're not breast-feeding, buddy." she said in a low voice.

"Oh, right." He reddened slightly.


	4. Chapter 4

Oscar won the bet handily though he refused to collect, saying that they had forgotten to factor in her bionics, which never gain weight. They met at the Szechuan place once a week. He quickly dovetailed into Rudy and Callahan's routine, bringing Jaime food and diversion, and a few times when she was really stuck, he volunteered to babysit. Only once did he hand Emmy back to her mother screaming, red faced and inconsolable (while he was ashen), but otherwise he seemed to handle her amazingly well, and she liked him.

One evening he arrived after dinner, with a record under his arm. It was music by Schubert, he told her, something he had listened to a lot when he knew for certain that his brother was dead. He turned out the lights in the living room, and they listened in the dark - Jaime stretched out on the couch and Oscar slouched in a comfortable chair. It was piano and strings - and she thought it was the saddest thing she had ever heard. At first she resisted it - the sorrow in the music on top of her own sorrow was overwhelming - but when he played it several times it began to feel cathartic - a pure experience of grief that was shared at some time by every person in the world - and beautiful as well. Could grief be beautiful? For a moment or two, maybe.

She found that Oscar was very comfortable talking about uncomfortable things. Death, namely. They had endless discussions about the people they had both lost, and how it had changed them. It didn't seem morbid, just necessary. It became easier and easier to talk about Steve and how she missed him, and to recall details of their life together. It was a way of keeping him alive.

When she thought back on it, it had been a year of very little joy - and she noticed it one evening when she and Oscar and Rudy and Callahan were out for dinner at the usual place. She wasn't sure how they got onto it, but Rudy began to sing them some gruesome and appallingly dirty songs he and a roommate had written in Med school. He leaned over the table and sang very low, forcing everyone else to lean in to hear. The songs were hilarious, and so out of character for Rudy that soon Jaime was helpless with laughter, as was the rest of the table. She laughed and laughed until everyone was laughing at her. For a few moments the weight lifted from her heart and she remembered the sensation of happiness, and sensed she might feel that way again some day.**  
**

After that, life continued to slowly improve. It was still painful, but she didn't feel completely leaden anymore. Emmy was miraculous. She was walking now and talking a little, and was Jaime's anchor and greatest delight. She also found herself counting on Oscar more and more, and she wondered how she could have pushed him out of her life. He was extremely kind, and seemed to have a sixth sense about what was needed at any given time

One day just after Emmy's second birthday they visited the zoo (to see Oscar's relatives in the rhinoceros enclosure, Jaime explained to her daughter). As they stood watching the macaques, Jaime looked at Oscar holding Emmy in his arms, and to her great surprise, she felt a twinge of envy. She wanted to be held too - shielded from the buffeting crowds - safe in someone's arms. _In his arms? _She dismissed the idea at first as a momentary twinge, but she found that the feeling persisted.

She found herself gazing at his forearms and hands, the back of his neck, his throat, and the few dark hairs visible above the top button of his shirt, - in other words, any bare skin she could see. She looked for excuses to touch him, to run her hand along his solid shoulders, or down his back. It caused her twinges of guilt, but she insisted to herself it that it was just a harmless little crush, and it felt nice. After all, he didn't seem to share her feelings at all. He was warm and affectionate, but she didn't see signs of attraction.

At first she was relieved and thought it for the best, but if she were honest with herself, it was frustrating too. Had he been so horrified by her rage? Hadn't he said he was "too fond" of her? Had she misunderstood? Was it a sense of propriety? The age difference? Then one day she caught the first indication. She was fingering a necklace she was wearing, and he was gazing intently at her fingers against her chest. When his eyes flicked back to hers, his expression sent a small thrill of electricity through her. Still, he made no move - and she simply couldn't.

----

"How about grown-up's night out? Sort of a low-expectation date - because it's just me." he asked one day.

The pearls she fastened around her neck were pleasantly cool on her skin. It had been a while since she had gotten dressed up in hopes of impressing someone. She had that long forgotten fluttery first-date feeling, and she was enjoying it. When she opened the door to him, her heart jumped. Oscar was wearing a dark grey suit, and he looked taller and more handsome than she ever remembered him being. He flashed a big, radiant grin as she took his arm.

"You're gorgeous." he said.

"You may be gorgeous-er." she giggled.

He laughed and shook his head. Jaime said goodbye to the babysitter and left the house feeling buoyant. He took her to a new restaurant in DC, one she hadn't heard of. They sat in a quiet corner of the outdoor courtyard, which was decorated with small white lights draped through the trees. It was a beautiful, romantic setting, and they spent what she felt were a beautiful, romantic two hours over dinner. Conversation flowed easily between them. She set about to correct an imbalance in their relationship - that he knew almost everything about her while she knew much less about him. Eventually he noticed he was doing all the talking and began to stubbornly answer all of her questions with questions of his own. She finally threw her hands in the air, laughing, when he asked her who was on first.

Jaime expected they would go straight home after dinner, so she was surprised when Oscar drove them far out of their way, finally pulling up to a place called _The Starlite Dance Hall_.

"The land that time forgot." he said, gesturing to it.

"We're going in there? Dancing?!" asked Jaime, alarmed. "Real dancing?"

"Come on. It'll be fun." he said reassuringly.

She had never seen anything like it. The hall was probably a hundred years old, and long past its glory days. It was very dark, with a crumbling ornate plaster ceiling, and a formerly beautiful hardwood dance floor. The remnants of an orchestra, in the form of ten elderly men, played music from the 30's and 40's on a stage dotted with painted stars. They too were past their glory days, but they played well. There were lots of couples - most of them over 65, and many of them accomplished dancers.

"Just as I had hoped." he grinned. "I'm the youngest man in the room, and you are the most beautiful woman."

He took her hand and led her to the dance floor. Not knowing the much about formal dancing, Jaime felt intimidated. He held her right hand firmly in his left, and slid his right arm around her waist. She tentatively placed her left hand on his shoulder.

"Now relax."he ordered her. "We're just going to fake it. Breathe." An elderly woman wafting by with her partner gave her a small smile of encouragement.

Before long she was enjoying herself. She only stepped on his feet twice before they began to flow together. There was such strength and grace in the way he held her that she suddenly understood completely why ballroom dancing had been invented. It was so close to an embrace, and yet it wasn't. It was more like the promise of an embrace.

"You're good at this." she smiled to him.

"My sister used to make me practice with her when we were kids." he replied. "It was humiliating at the time, but it's come in mighty handy with politician's wives. But it took me a while to figure out how to lead."

The band played a string of upbeat numbers, but finally the tempo slowed to a sultry pace. Jaime had been looking forward to this moment. Oscar gently pulled her body into his, and rested his cheek against her head. It was heavenly. She closed her eyes and gave herself over to the pleasure of being in his arms, of moving in unison with him to a pretty old song. She knew it, she realized. She lifted her head and sang low into his ear,

_I know a little bit_

_About a lot of things_

_But I don't know enough about you..._

They arrived back at her house at 11:30 - the latest they thought the babysitter could tolerate.

"That was wonderful." Jaime smiled to him as they stood at the door. "Do you want to come in?" she added tentatively.

He shook his head returning her smile. "Thanks, but I should go. I've got a couple hours of reading I need to do."

"Oh no! That's a terrible way to end a lovely evening."

"Isn't it?" he agreed. He leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the cheek. "Goodnight." he said softly - and then he was gone.

"Goodnight." Jaime sighed.

---

On the Sunday after their date, Jaime cooked a vegetarian lasagna, and Oscar fulfilled his end of the bargain by doing the dishes while she put Emmy (now two and a half) to bed. She returned to the kitchen to pour a cup of tea, blissfully unaware that Oscar was winding up a wet tea towel behind her. He whipped it at her expertly, and with a loud snap it caught her smartly on the butt. Jaime shrieked and jumped.

"OH! You are going to get it!" she hissed, lunging at him. He backed up, shoving the tea towel behind his back, giggling like a delinquent kid. She reached around him, but he swiveled and eluded her with ease, switching hands and twisting away from her grasp. Finally she grabbed him firmly around the waist, and with just a little bionic power, pushed the air out of him. "Whoah..." he gasped. Jaime, laughing, grabbed at the towel in his right hand, but he held it out of her reach.

"You clearly didn't have siblings." he taunted. He wrapped his left arm firmly around her, and dropped the towel to the floor. As she made a move to retrieve it he brought his right arm around her to stop her. She registered the strength of his embrace and the sudden quiet intensity she felt from him. His hand somehow located the exact spot where the tea towel had stung, and he massaged it gently. "I'm sorry. That must have hurt." he said quietly. She looked up into his face. His eyes were dark, liquid brown. There was in them a silent acknowledgment of the sexual tension that had been building between them for months. She grasped the back of his neck and brought her mouth to his so hard that Oscar would later notice his lower lip was swollen. They kissed urgently, almost desperately. Pushing her firmly up against the wall, he yanked at her clothing, his large warm hands exploring her body, pulling her into him. The kisses became deep and rhythmic. They slid to the floor together as she pulled his shirt open, buttons shooting everywhere. In moments they had pulled their remaining clothes off and they made love on the kitchen floor, their passion fueled by months of pent up desire.

They lay tangled together afterward, breathless and content. Jaime kissed him languidly.

"I guess we'd better get up before we're discovered by an impressionable child." she murmured.

"Oh my God!" he said, sitting up. They gathered up their debris and hurried through the darkened house to the bedroom. Oscar threw the pile of clothes down and slipped between the covers. Jaime pulled open a dresser and tossed him a pair of pyjamas.

"Here. I bought you these last week. For Emmy's sake, of course." she said, fishing out a nightie for herself.

"Very thoughtful. You're a girl who thinks ahead." he smiled. "But I won't be needing them just yet." He patted the bed.

When they made love again, it was unhurried and tender, and she felt her heart fuse to his along with her body. In the middle of the night, Jaime lay in the dark marveling at what a crazy proposition life was. Something had released in her - something she couldn't name, but she knew she was ready to start again. It was not as though she was over Steve. In fact it would take years before she would stop missing him - but she adored Oscar. Being with him tonight had removed all doubt. He was so much more than met the eye - more passionate, more loving - and more lovable - than she had ever imagined. The craziest part was that she loved him now every bit as much as she had hated him two and a half years earlier.

His steady breath told her he was asleep, but she couldn't resist whispering to him, "I love you." To her surprise he shifted; his lips found hers in the dark, and he kissed her tenderly.

"And I love you." he replied. She stroked his face. "What do you think Steve would make of this?" he asked tentatively.

"He'd be jealous." Jaime answered immediately.

"Yeah."

"But I also think," she added, sliding her arm around him, holding him close, "that he'd rather see us happy together than miserable apart."

-----

They were woken by Emmy who made her presence known by jumping on them and elbowing Jaime under the chin.

"Osto!" she said delightedly, "what you doing here?"

"We had a sleepover, sweetheart."

"Sleep over what?" she asked. Oscar could find no ready answer to that question.

"I wanna sleep over too!" she cried, as she dug her way under the covers, nestled firmly between them and squeezed her eyes shut.

Oscar gazed at Jaime across the pillows.

"What?" she asked.

He took a deep breath, raised his eyebrows and mouthed the words,"Will you marry me?"

"What?" she mouthed back, uncomprehending.

"Will ... you... marry... me?" he asked silently again, this time miming a ring slipping over a finger. Jaime's eyes widened.

"Osto, I show you something!" Emmy bolted up, slid off the bed and tore out of the room.

Oscar moved closer to Jaime, touching his forehead to hers. "You don't have to answer now..."

"Yes." she replied without hesitation. "Yes. Yes. Absolutely." She kissed him as Emmy bounced back onto the bed.

"Look!" she cried as she climbed over Jaime, kneeing her in the belly. She had in her hand two little plastic horses, a mare and a foal.

"See."Emmy explained to him, "That's mama and that's baby."

"Why, look at that!" said Oscar, with a radiant grin. "Those are _beautiful_ horses." He took each of them from Emmy and kissed them on their tiny plastic muzzles. He looked to Jaime again. "Those are the best, most wonderful, most gorgeous, lovable, beautiful mama and baby I've ever seen!"


	5. Chapter 5

In the fourth month of his 80th year, Oscar sat on a favorite bench in his large, leafy garden. The test results had come in today. The cancer was back. There was no fighting it this time - he didn't want to anyway. He'd have a few months - four or five if he were lucky. Nobody should grieve the death of old men, he thought, least of all the old men themselves. He'd had far more than his share.

He mind passed over his long and interesting life. How lucky he had been. But of course, not a lot of it was truly luck. That was his great secret. No one knew what a manipulative bastard he really was. He had choreographed almost all of the major events of his life - while maintaining the appearance of straightforward integrity. His ability to subtly manipulate those around him was his greatest achievement - in a career of great achievements - and no one would ever know. It was not that he was an unfeeling person - quite the contrary, actually. It was just that he had always marshaled emotion to the larger cause of his ambitions. Nonetheless, he appreciated his luck, because not even he could control everything. He had managed to retain the love of his wonderful, glorious wife. He had two children, whom he adored. Emily (not to be called Emmy anymore) was 31. He and Jaime had done everything they could to bring Steve alive to her through their memories and stories, but in his heart Oscar jealously guarded his position in her heart as her _real_ Dad. Emmy had finished her medical degree, and was now concentrating on computer sciences and electrical engineering, intent on following in the footsteps of her "third father" Rudy. Samuel Steven was 24; a sweet, dark haired, idealistic young man, just finishing an undergraduate degree, and demonstrating a disturbing interest in politics. Oscar deeply regretted that he would not know them into their forties and fifties, but he was lucky to have seen them this far.

He was interrupted from his thoughts when Jaime sat down beside him, drinks in hand. Scotch for him, gin and tonic for her.

"That's a funny look you have on your face." she said.

"What kind of look?"

"I'd call it self satisfied."

He laughed. He put his arm around her and nestled her close. She sighed, lifted her glass and looked into his eyes. They made a silent toast.

"I suppose we should call the kids." she said quietly.

"Not tonight." he said, resting his head on hers. "I just want to be you and me tonight."

They sat in silence for a while, contemplating what the next four months would likely hold for the family. It was not a happy contemplation. Eventually she shifted toward the edge of the bench, positioning herself so she could look directly into his face.

He looked at her enquiringly.

She stared into her drink "I want you to know something, and now is as good a time to say it as any." She looked deep into his eyes. "I'm onto you, Oscar Goldman."

"Onto what?" he smiled.

"The real you."

"Well, I would hope after thirty years of marriage you would know the real me."

Her expression was serious. "You don't fool me. You haven't fooled me for years now."

"What are you talking about?"

"I think you are the most calculating person I've ever met." she said slowly.

"What?" His outward self affected a look of disbelief. His inner self quivered with the fear of discovery.

"That sounds bad, doesn't it?" she smiled, her demeanor cool. "Let me put it another way. I think of you as a chess master. You can see the game fifteen moves in advance. But the most amazing thing is that your opposition doesn't even know you're playing. Shakespeare would envy your understanding of human nature."

He was feeling like an entomologist's specimen - pinned. "I have no idea what you're talking about." She had paid him an impressive compliment, but he knew it wasn't going to end there.

She shook her head. "The way you maneuvered me into marrying you. It was brilliant. You're an artist. It was only much later that I felt the hook in my mouth."

"What a terrible thing to say." he breathed, looking deeply pained. "You make me sound so cold. I didn't 'maneuver' you. Who's ever maneuvered you?"

"Really? That day in the grocery store, when I bumped into you - that wasn't by accident, was it?"

He paused for a long moment. "What if it wasn't? People in love do ridiculous things."

"So you do admit it."

He contemplated his response. "Yes. I went every Saturday, because I knew that's when you went. One day I was there for six hours. Because I was in love with you." he added with emphasis. "Because I was miserable. I needed you to talk to me."

"I know." she replied, with a hint of reassurance. "But it was still part of a plan. I went from hating you to being your loving wife. That's not easy to pull off. You massaged Rudy into giving me that lecture, didn't you?" Had she seen the flicker of guilt in his eyes? "To you, getting what you want is just a matter of making the right moves at the right time. You were a _saint_. You were so understanding, so unselfish - you were _perfect_. And then, with one well placed flick of a tea towel, you had me - body and soul. That first night... on the kitchen floor..."She smiled at the memory.

"Oh... that was _good_, wasn't it?"

"It sure was. And the next morning you had yourself a wife."

"But you're just describing the course of our romance - I didn't plan that."

"Yes you did. That very day I had told myself that I was going to have to make a move on you - because I couldn't stand it anymore. I wanted you so badly. And you wanted me too but you waited and waited - far longer than any _normal_ human being - to make sure you really had me. You don't make mistakes. There is no such thing as a snap decision in your books. You wait - like a praying mantis - until the moment is right."

"A praying mantis?! That's an attractive description. Wasn't I just being discreet? Maybe sensitive? I was in love with you and I wanted you to love me too. I don't think you have a case."

"I don't need a case. I'm your wife. I've watched you for thirty years - with me, with the children, friends, colleagues... every moment of your life I can hear the little gears whirring in your head. You don't do anything without calculating the consequences."

"So you're trying to tell me I haven't been spontaneous enough? Is that it?" He was starting to sound argumentative.

"Stop." she said firmly. "Be honest with me. What have you got to lose?"

Their eyes locked for a long moment. "You." he replied. "I could lose you." Saying this, he knew, amounted to a confession. Jaime simply shook her head in response. He searched her face for a long time and then nodded reluctantly. "It's all true."

She smiled. "Thank you." Something fundamental had just changed in their relationship, and neither knew how those changes would manifest. "I knew the OSI would fall apart when you retired. All those years you looked like a stolid, unremarkable bureaucrat while you were running everyone around exactly to your liking. I can't even imagine how you did it, but I know you did."

"That's how it's done in Washington, Jaime. The end justifies the means." he said with a note of disgust. "I believed in what I was doing. Back when I thought we were the good guys."

"But you were the best." she said with admiration. "Unlike all those other Washington powerbrokers, you _never_ showed your hand. I bet you won all those poker games you played with Steve and Rudy, didn't you?

"Not _all_ of them. That would have been showing my hand." They smiled at each other - it was perhaps the first completely complicit look they had ever shared.

"I trust you'll maneuver Sammy out of that crazy career-in-politics idea before the month is out?"

"That's shooting fish in a barrel. I have the dying-father card."

Jaime winced and stared into her drink, biting her lip. She took a deep breath and lifted her head. "You know, the irony is that when I was so angry with you after Steve died, in some sense I had hit on the truth. I knew there was something false about the Oscar Goldman you presented to the world."

He looked at her steadily, though his face burned a little. "I'd like to think of myself as someone who makes things happen. A facilitator rather than a manipulator."

"Oh you are a facilitator - no doubt of that." She looked at him hard. "I have wondered though, if there's a darker side.

"Oh?"

"I need to know - and you must be straight with me Oscar - did you undermine my marriage with Steve?"

He put his hand over his eyes, stung to his heart. He also needed a moment to think. It sickened him to know that she had been harboring this thought for years. But if he became angry and defensive, it might drive a wedge between them he couldn't bear to contemplate. Four months left. He needed her desperately. He dropped his hand and looked into her eyes. "No." he replied, simply. "I wanted to. But I didn't."

"But you didn't support it either, did you?"

He smiled sadly. "I did. Sort of. Once I even told Steve that if you were at home waiting for me I certainly wouldn't be sitting around with him. _And_ I'll have you know I just blurted that out with no thought to the consequences. He didn't like it too much. After that I had to be very careful not to seem too interested in you. I'd given myself away, and I couldn't play both ends. So I just retreated into being one of the boys. Steve did what he did, and I didn't discourage him. He wasn't ready to be a parent."

"Not like you."

"Not like me." He smiled ruefully. "To be completely honest I hoped your marriage would fail on its own."

"It wouldn't have."

"I know that now. You get in there for the long haul - for which I am eternally grateful."

"So..." she hesitated, "did you put him in harm's way on that mission?"

Oscar felt his entire being darken. "I spent my career putting all kinds of people in harm's way, you included. If you think I would deliberately set out to _kill_ him... then our entire relationship has been a sham." He sat up. He needed to walk away from this. She placed a hand in the middle of his chest to stop him. They stared hard at one another for a moment before he leaned back again. She left her hand over his heart, but continued to stare at him with those intense, pained hazel eyes. "Didn't we cover this thirty years ago?" he said, barely containing his anger.

"It was a different question. Then I thought you had been careless. I'm asking you now if you did it on purpose."

"I didn't _know_ Jaime. You know perfectly well how easily aneurysms can be missed."

"Denial is another special skill in Washington." she replied.

"Do you think Rudy would have let me get away with that?! No!" he said firmly, hotly. "No, I did not intentionally put Steve in harm's way. I loved Steve."She ran her hand up and down his breast bone to calm him. He could see she was feeling a little guilty. "How long..." his voice broke, "how long have you been thinking this?"

"Well," she sighed, "it crossed my mind just after we were married, but I didn't want to believe it, because I was in love with you. Later, I dismissed it, because I just _couldn't_ believe it. You're a wonderful husband and my best friend. But the truth is you're such a complex character - I guess there's always been a tiny part of me that hung on to some doubt." She looked regretful. "I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "Jaime..." He couldn't think what else to say.

"I'm sorry." she said again.

He closed his eyes and dropped his head until he felt calmer. The sensation of her hand on his chest helped. "I can't believe you would live with me all this time - knowing what you do - and never say a word."

"Well, when your husband is a man who lives and breathes covert operations, you have to have a few of your own. Besides, it was a thrill to watch you work." She smiled, and took his hand. "I decided a long time ago that I had to believe in you - that you were a decent man - just sneaky. Then I knew I could handle you. You really ought to be a case study. A benign sociopath."

He shook his head. "Thanks. You're a little devious yourself. Must be why I haven't tried to run you around for years."

"Smart man." They smiled at one another. "Will you forgive me for hauling you over the coals?"

"Yes." he replied, squeezing her hand. "If you can forgive me for being fundamentally sneaky."

"There's only one thing I can't forgive you for," she said sadly, looking into his eyes. "and that's for getting old before me."

"I know." he replied quietly. He was prepared to die, but he so hated to leave her.

"Will you please et me try out some homeopathic remedies? To see if we can keep you around longer?"

"Okay." he sighed. He didn't believe in homeopathy at all, but he could hardly deny her. Endless horse pills. He could see it now.

"There's another reason I wanted to get things straight between us."Oscar's eyes widened in alarm. "It's okay," she laughed, "I'm not going to skewer you again." She looked at him intently, her expression kind and concerned. "I've been worried that in your heart of hearts you feel you can only be loved if you present a certain front to the world." She put her arm around his neck. "And I want you to know that I love you for exactly who you _really_ are - no matter what. I love you with all my heart."

He was speechless. He leaned forward and kissed her fully on the lips, with all the passion and love he had in him. They closed their eyes, and for a moment the years disappeared. When their lips parted and he pulled back, her eyes widened in astonishment. For only the second time in their entire life together, Oscar Goldman cried.

"Oscar..." she said tenderly, wiping a tear away.

"Aw, don't pay any attention." he said, roughly rubbing his face on his sleeve. "It's just another ploy to get you into the sack."

"Well, it's working." she said, as she rose and offered her hand to him. "Come on. You rotten old man."

He laughed and grasped her hand, got to his feet, and together they walked toward the house.


End file.
